


Coldfront

by LadyCersei



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Deepground (Compilation of FFVII), Dirge of Cerberus (Compilation of FFVII) Spoilers, F/M, Gen, Post-Final Fantasy VII, Prisoner of War, Stockholm Syndrome, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28808625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCersei/pseuds/LadyCersei
Summary: Shelke was one of the leading technicians for the WRO. All that comes crashing down when she is captured by Deepground and all her skills are put to the test. The world depends on it. Literally.  It doesn't help that a Tsviet has to make things all the more difficult. AU. Shelkero.
Relationships: Nero the Sable/Shelke Rui/Weiss the Immaculate
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

Prologue

The room smelt dank, mouldy and damp. It was also bitterly cold and despite the old smell in the room she was in, she could also smell something else. Even taste it on her lips.

Mako.

There must be an abundance of it somewhere nearby.

Shelke swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. Her body ached and her throat was dry. But aside from that she was okay and she suspected she had only been confined within here for a few hours. Her mind was hazy at best and was taking its time to process everything coherently, but she was sure the tranquilizer would wear off soon. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she had woken up, but as she had assessed her surroundings, she had realised she was in deep trouble. The fact that they had kept her alive at all was confounding, and she was wracking her brains for reasons why. Ransom? Interrogation? Experimentation? Such were the possibilities.

Darker thoughts came to mind when she contemplated torture and even rape. Shelke was good at shutting herself down and letting herself return to that empty husk she use to be when she practised her Synaptic Net Dive when she was younger. It had often helped her escape the burning and nauseating pain when she was given Mako injections by Fuhito. Perhaps it would work now although she didn’t know how long. She shuffled a little bit, trying to find a comfortable position, and it helped a little. Her arms, however, ached terribly. They had been bound behind her back in cuffs, which was chained to the wall. Her ankles were bound in a similar fashion and had long since gone numb. It wasn’t a good sign. The lack of circulation to her proximal extremities could render her handicapped and that was something she didn’t think she would be able to bear. Just as she was about to contemplate the severity of her current situation, she heard the sound of screeching metal and she gritted her teeth. It was too loud. The door slid open and Shelke was greeted with the first ounce of light she had seen in ages.

The light was faint and so it didn’t hurt as much as she expected it to. Merely the glow of Mako within corridors and from uniforms. “And she’s been searched?” A faint male voice spoke from the entrance. As Shelke raised her head, she could see he was staring directly at her, but at this distance, she couldn’t read his expression. Despite that, his gaze lingered over her far too long for her comfort. She cringed when she caught sight of the familiar metal appendages arching out from his back. A Tsviet. But it wasn’t that realization that cleared up the fogginess of her mind. It was him. Nero the Sable. The harbinger of darkness.

Her situation was looking grim indeed.

“Yes, sir. Her weapons were confiscated and we found nothing of any significance on her person. No other possessions other than a bag containing spare clothes.”

Silence ensured, but his eyes never left her. The Mako lines running through his uniform and the Mako glow from his eyes illuminated his features. Almost enough to make her shudder with fear. She had seen soldiers with their Mako enhancements. She herself was one, but seeing it on him coupled with the uniform, her situation and wherever she was, only added to her fear. That and the man looked completely abnormal.

“Unbind her; make sure she is coherent and able to walk. Bring her to me to be briefed.”

He turned to leave and she could hear his heavy footsteps echo down the corridors. Foreboding filled her. Briefed about what? She had already made her intentions clear to him. Before she could come to some sort of conclusion, she heard two soldiers enter the cell that was holding her. One held his rifle to her head with a curt warning. The other, a woman, unbound her arms and legs. “Walk,” the female soldier said abruptly. Shelke licked her lips and flexed her fingers. She felt unsteady on still-numb legs, but she felt it would be unwise to mention this. She nodded. “Follow,” the woman said in a short clipped tone. Shelke did not hesitate and so with a rifle pressed to her back from the soldier behind her, she followed the other woman out of her cell.

They continued down the corridors in a morose silence. Knowing her situation and the fact that she was still alive, Shelke chose to discreetly observe her surroundings. Any sort of information for her whereabouts would be vital if she wanted to be saved or save herself. Even more so if she could provide anything useful for the W.R.O. There were a million questions bubbling in her mind, but seeing as how the Deepground female continued this journey on in silence, there was no safe way for Shelke to ask questions without putting herself in danger or making herself look foolish. Rewarding silence with silence was probably the best policy.

“I take it you know where you are?” That was surprising. Shelke wasn’t expecting the female soldier to speak out of the blue. “Yes,” she said quietly. At least, she had some idea of where she was. The woman said nothing for several moments as they turned to another passageway. “But not why,” the woman mused. A rhetorical question, which she answered nonetheless. “No.”

The woman stopped and gave her a bland smile. “You’ll soon find out.”

One more sharp turn down a passageway and they stopped at some metal sliding doors. The female soldier led her in and Shelke timidly followed. The rifle that she felt occasionally press into her back from before was gone. Looking behind her, the other soldier was nowhere in sight. Shelke assumed he was guarding the door. Perspiration covered Shelke’s forehead and in haste she wiped it away. She didn’t want her captors to see the distress she was feeling. But what did they want exactly?

Shelke wasn’t kept waiting. Although his back was turned to her, she could see him gazing out through the window which appeared to lead into a room containing more mako pods. He seemed tense, but that was the least of her worries.

“Shelke Rui of the W.R.O.” he mused. His voice was mocking, and sent shivers up her spine. He turned to look at her, his face encased in that strange muzzle of his. She had heard about him, she had read about him and had seen his darkness swallow soldiers before they even noticed his presence.

This, however, was the first time she had seen him up close. Shelke had never felt more apprehensive in her entire life. And she wasn’t exactly sure how to react in such a situation. Acting defiant could get her severely hurt or killed.

However revealing how scared she really was through her body language might just be as bad. It would imply weakness, which could either be an advantage or disadvantage. It depended entirely on what sort of hostages Nero the Sable preferred. He may get straight to the point if he knew she was frightened and she may be able to avoid any brutal mind games or torture he had planned for her. On the other hand, showing such fright would be an insult to her dignity and even may encourage him to be more abrasive with her.

Some people got more of a thrill the weaker they perceived their victims to be. “I suppose you are wondering what you are doing here,” he paused, “Alive, that is.” She thinned her lips as she processed his statement. It even sounded like he was toying with her. She didn’t like being played with and she didn’t want to be. She didn’t have an answer for him either. At least not one that wouldn’t warrant a violent response from him. Just stay neutral she reminded herself. It was probably the safest way to go. Opting for a safer way out of this, she treated his statement as if it wasn’t the prelude to a cruel interrogation.

She swallowed hard and in a quiet voice answered him. “Yes I am…curious.”

It was hard to keep the acid out of her voice. It was humiliating enough that she had been forced into giving him valuable W.R.O information before. His eyes narrowed and she felt so vulnerable at his callous study of her face. He scrutinized her the same way she assessed an intriguing piece of prosthetic apparatus or someone’s neurological data. “You possess some information that may be of use to us. Your medical knowledge may also be beneficial.”

Taken by surprise, Shelke widened her eyes. Did she hear wrong? “You want me to help you with something?” She asked for confirmation and in disbelief.

The rustling of fabric briefly caught her attention and out of her peripheral vision, Shelke saw the female soldier shift uncomfortably. Having Synaptic Net Dive made her especially perceptive and that woman’s fidgeting helped her draw some conclusions. Something like this-capturing a W.R.O. technician-had certainly not been her idea. “You could say that. It was a last resort, but we require your assistance.”

Nero’s voice cut straight into her contemplation of the other woman standing in the room. He either didn’t notice his fellow soldier’s change in body language, decided to ignore it or simply didn’t care. Returning back to the matter at hand, Shelke considered. They needed her for something and something that was definitely important. Why else would Tsviets send soldiers out and about to target her specifically?

However that didn’t seem to matter. Understanding dawned on her. They needed her help for an important task and Shelke realized now that she could use it to her advantage. To send information about this enemy to the W.R.O. and to get out of here.

“Well then,” Shelke began, feeling a little more confident now. “How may I be of assistance?” Silence ensured and he stared at her for a long time. How it was that something as simple as his stare could make her feel so unnerved? She dismissed it as unimportant. She had no intention of helping him at all. Whatever she had promised him for Shalua’s life.

“It is where he requires your assistance. It is how you will be of use to him that is important. It is also how you can pay your end of the bargain.” Shelke blinked. “He?” She echoed. Was that a chuckle that escaped his mouth? “My brother.” If Shelke thought she was confused before, her mind was in complete disarray now.

There was only one ‘he’ that Nero could possibly be referring to. She didn’t know why she didn’t pick it up earlier.

Weiss the Immaculate, Deepground’s enigmatic and powerful leader, needed her for something. Needed her help. Her of all people.

Why?


	2. Perpetual Motion

“Make a wish, Shelke,” Yuffie encouraged with a smile that didn’t quite reach up to her eyes. In return, Shelke made little effort to blow out the candles. Normally she would ignore Yuffie’s excited jibes, but Shalua had insisted on making this a party and she didn’t want to disappoint her.

 _I suppose it couldn’t hurt_ , she thought as she blew out the last of the candles.

_But I don’t have anything to wish for._

She proceeded to cut the cake feeling very self-conscious over the smiling gazes of Shalua’s friends.

Shelke wasn’t use to parties let alone celebrating them, but Shalua had insisted and like any devoted younger sibling, Shelke had agreed.

“Thanks Shelke,” Shalua whispered to her and was returned with a bland smile.

Shelke let Yuffie finish cutting up the rest of the cake and pass it around to everyone. She herself was not particularly hungry, but since Tifa had put a lot of time and effort into the delicacy, she didn’t want to be rude. Shalua helpfully put the biggest piece on her plate, which Shelke looked upon with mild dread. Still, she managed to eat steadily. It was good, but rich enough to turn her stomach.

“Congratulations on your promotion, too,” Shalua added.

“Thank you,” said Shelke automatically.

Reeve Tuesti hadn’t spared a moment when her skills had proved to be invaluable. She had been with the W.R.O. for a year now as a technician and because of the fluke of genetics which had given her the SND ability, she had been promoted to Reeve’s personal advisor at high speed. Years of experimenting with her abilities and receiving physical training when her sister had joined AVALANCHE had honed her unique skill. Though it had made her incredibly detached, she was still able to access information that others couldn’t and gather data quickly, but also upload the neurodata of others so that she could use their knowledge.

Desire for independence had driven her to work hard, but that ability to look into another’s mind was what had made her current situation possible. Taking a sip of some homemade soda Tifa had brought, Shelke decided she liked where her future was going. It wasn’t something that she could have pictured as a child, but the Shinra Company, AVALANCHE and Meteorfall had changed her.

At nineteen, she had seen more than most people did in a lifetime: a seven year war, the fall of an empire, the Planet being torn asunder… And now she would help rebuild it.

The mindless chatter continued, leaving her to sit there quietly by herself. They knew she wasn’t very talkative and had learned to keep their distance from her aloof and often indifferent behaviour. She preferred things this way, even though Shalua made momentous efforts to help her socialise.

“So, how is it working for Reeve?” Shalua said conversationally. Shelke took a few moments to answer as she gave Shalua’s question deep consideration.

Shelke already worked for Reeve so what was her sister getting at?

“Fine as it has always been,” she answered. Shalua rolled her eyes. “No I mean, how is it working for him personally? As his personal assistant? It is a very important job Shelke,” Shalua said emphasizing her name with sarcasm.

“You are the chief expert in gathering data and analysing it for him,” her sister continued.

Shelke absentmindedly took a sip of her drink before answering. “Only in an intel-gathering capacity. My SND allows me to gather information faster than would otherwise be possible,” she said. She paused for a moment before looking at her sister. “

It really is only about speed hence making it all the more convenient.” T

here was more to it than that. He was using her to investigate classified or hidden information within the Shinra database and the World Wide Network. Solely for archiving purposes, Reeve had hastened to assure her. Shelke wondered whether he truly believed that. It seemed obvious to her that the Director did not fully trust the intentions of Rufus Shinra, despite his generous donations to the upkeep of the WRO. Understandable, considering everything Shinra had done to the world. But she was a little curious about Tuesti’s suspicions.

What did he have to fear? Most of Shinra’s Company secrets had been exposed after Meteor fall. Perhaps he wanted her to find more of Shinra’s nefarious deeds; perhaps he wanted something covered up. Despite this, she could still see how sensible it all really was. The W.R.O. needed any sort of information to right the wrongs and fix the broken. His instructions had been abstract at best. She was just gathering whatever she could find and sending him anything that could be noteworthy - and he, then, would pass that information to the relevant WRO team.

Of course, she didn’t voice these things, even to Shalua. Reeve had stressed the importance of confidentiality - and Shelke knew from personal experience that sometimes the less people knew the better. It was partly the reason why she was so isolated. SND had very negative effects on the psyche and it didn’t take much for people to realize she was different.

It was the same with the mission she was undertaking. Her silence would avoid conflict, prejudice, panic. Not that either she or Reeve doubted Shalua’s discretion, but it was better that Shalua remain in the dark for now. Her sister would be informed in due course. She was sure it would be Shalua, of all people, that Reeve would speak to first if they found anything of any significance. S

he was the head scientist in the WRO medical research department after all. Shelke had long suspected there was more going on between them than a friendly professional relationship.

That too, was something she kept to herself. Her eyes turned to her sister again. “So as per your question, it isn’t any different. I just see the Director more often.”

Shalua looked away. She looked at the man in question who was engaging Cloud in a polite conversation.

“Indeed,” her sister replied.

* * *

As Shelke stared gravely at her image in the mirror that night, she couldn’t help but contemplate where she would be in ten years’ time.

It wasn’t work she was concerned about (although that played a role too), it was her private life. Her life in general. Before, there had always been too much to do to worry about such things - it had even been better that she had no social life to speak of, as it allowed her to work on difficult projects without disappointing any expectations.

But now that the world was at peace and people had started to rebuild their lives, everyone had something to look forward to. And usually that something or some things was the general social psychological facets that humans indulged in within their lives: family, friends, children. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

She was only nineteen years old, she reminded herself. The future was hardly set. But it was impossible not to see that she lacked those things. She had a sister, true, but not a sister she could completely open up to. Years of fighting and being experimented on by Fuhito in AVALANCHE had ruined any close relationship Shelke might have considered.

Shelke still blamed Shalua for that.

Though Shalua appeared to be unaware. Every time she thought of voicing this, guilt stopped her. Whenever Shelke looked at Shalua’s mechanical arm, her missing eye and the scars all over her body from various surgeries to reconstruct and replace her organs, she was forever reminded of everything Shalua had suffered - suffered for her. The contradiction of resentment and guilt was something that Shelke found difficult to deal with.

It was easier to push Shalua away. Even so, she supposed Shalua filled the minimum social and emotional needs that most humans desired from familial relationships, despite their history.

But what about the other aspects of her life? Friends? Shelke had none to speak of. Those that had attended her ‘party’ were Shalua’s friends. Children? Shelke scoffed. She couldn’t picture herself as a mother. She found children impossible to understand.

Shelke bit her lip in a rare display of agitation. None of these things was what was really bothering her.

_Significant other._

She frowned, and shook off the thought. It wasn’t possible to miss what she had never experienced. No men as far as she knew had never taken an interest in her nor she in them.

Regardless, what bothered her was the fact that suddenly, everyone seemed to be settling down, forging ties and relationships.

Everyone else had various commitments and entertainment in their lives and all Shelke had was her job.

Shalua had Reeve and all her friends. Tifa Lockhart was safe in her tightly knit circle of former AVALANCHE members as well as a possible romance with Cloud Strife. Yuffie was the princess of Wutai, had her fascination with materia, the same social circle as Tifa and possibly harboured feelings for Vincent Valentine.

And Shelke?

All she had was her job at the W.R.O. It was something she was proud of. Exceedingly so. But it was all she had. What would she do if she lost it? Rubbing her forehead, she turned off the light and headed to bed.

It was her nineteenth birthday. She supposed she wouldn’t start worrying about such things until she was at least thirty five.

As she lay in bed, she thought about this all the more. None of it mattered now. She was too busy to even contemplate any external commitments to anything and anyone, but she knew the business would end. The world would creep into harmony and as she grew older, she’d fall into nothing but a boring ritual which would be work and sleep. Was that something to look forward to? Solitude, peace and tranquillity?

Wouldn’t she get bored of it?

Wouldn’t it just be nice to have someone to turn to in those quiet days of peace?

To keep things interesting?

In truth, Shelke was a very introverted person. She hated large crowds, going out and having an abundance of friends. She liked being by herself, but she didn’t like being lonely.

But who could fulfil such an obligation? Definitely not someone who was normal.

Though she hid it with her detached and indifferent personality, Shelke in truth was a complete emotional wreck. And it would take someone similar to understand her and deal with her.

Someone who perhaps had suffered as she had suffered. Someone who wouldn’t smother her and leave her alone yet be there when she needed them.

And right now that someone was a far off dream rather than a distant reality. Shelke tried not to dwell on it and instead meditate into the blissful rest of slumber. Sleep did not come easily.


End file.
